Hot Cocoa
by Hathor-Aroha
Summary: Tarzan tastes hot cocoa for the first time. Tarzan/Jane


**Hot Cocoa**

Tarzan had already lost count of how many "hours" he had spent just crouching here, hypnotised by the zoetrope the Porters had brought with them. He could sit here, without becoming bored, and spin the zoetrope, marvelling at how the artists had managed to draw each successive drawing so that there were only subtle differences, invisible to the eye, that could melt together into a cohesive animation as one spun the contraption. Apparently back in "England" there were countless different varieties of these zoetrope drawings, with all sorts of scenes one could watch become blurred into one motion, each individual drawing melting into what seemed to the eye just one scene in animation.

This morning, however, a new, sweet scent drew him out of the zoetrope's world. Distracted, he stood up, turning around to look at what Jane was doing. He couldn't help a soft smile as he listened to how she sang under her breath, a delicate hand stirring a spoon in a cup. She must have felt his gaze upon him, for she turned around, cup now in both hands, spoon still inside, to smile back at him. Tarzan could see steam rising from the cup, and that same sweet smell that made him think of soft dreams and peaceful drowsiness under the stars that only caressed one's eyelids right before falling into true slumber.

"What's that?" Tarzan pointed to the mug in her hands.

Jane took a sip, closing her eyes in unmistakeable bliss. "The most delicious drink known to mankind." She opened her eyes with a little laugh. "Except for tea. Nothing beats a good, strong cup of English tea."

Tarzan ambled over to Jane, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, marveling at how her cheeks became a soft pink as he did this. Looking into the cup, he could see there was some sort of brown liquid in it, the steam from it warming his face.

"What's it called?"

"Hot cocoa," Jane explained, raising the cup up and toward Tarzan, "You want to try it? Here, you can take a sip if you want. Just blow on it gently first, or you'll burn yourself."

Jane's eyes never left his, nor his hers, as he wrapped a hand over one of hers, tilting the cup to his lips, taking the tiniest of sips. No sooner had the sweet drink touched his tongue, an overwhelming sense of sweetness came over his senses. He had never tasted anything this sweet in his life. Jane giggled at him–he wasn't sure why–as he finished his sip, Jane reorientating the cup so it was upright in their hands again, Tarzan not wanting to move his hand from hers.

"You like it," Jane said through a giggle, "I knew you would."

"What is the joke?"

Jane shook her head, smile never leaving her lips, "Never mind. You want your own cup of cocoa?"

"Yes please," Tarzan said, with an eager nod.

Jane gestured to a table, "Then sit down, and I'll make you one too."

Tarzan settled down into a chair, still not used to its texture and shape, but he was learning. Stiff-backed, he leaned back, feeling the soft cushion of the seat under him. He didn't have to wait long before Jane returned with another cup in a hand, her own held in the other, setting one down before Tarzan. She settled down–much less stiff-backed–into a chair next to Tarzan, blue eyes brightening like the sun with her generous smile.

"Enjoy your first hot cocoa, fresh from England."

Tarzan started to curl his fingers around the cup, only to flinch back when its surface burned his fingertips.

"Take your cup by the handle," Jane explained patiently, demonstrating with her own cup, "Then you don't get burned."

Tarzan did as she explained, observing closely how Jane's fingers curled around the handle of her own cup. Fitting a couple fingers through the gap between the handle and cup itself, he curled his thumb around the handle, now lifting the cup without being burned. He raised it toward Jane as if in a "toast"–he had heard of it before, and wasn't quite sure _why_ it was done, but it made them happy when he did it.

"Thank you, Jane," he said, "I hope you enjoy yours."

Jane sank back in her chair, legs stretched out under the table, as she gave him a warm smile.

"I've always enjoyed them before, but this one is the best I've had."

"Oh? Is it a different type?"

"Oh no, it's the same, but…"

"How is it 'the best'?"

"Because today I have the pleasure of seeing someone's face when they first try hot cocoa. And every morning is the best when you're here too."

He couldn't help but lay his hand over hers, warmed from the cup of hot cocoa. She stared down at their hands, a blush creeping over her cheeks before smiling shyly up at him.

"Every morning is the best when I'm with you too, Jane."


End file.
